Chapter 23 #2
I glance toward Short, and purse my lips as I think. “We’ve only got circumstantial evidence it was her.” Then I turn toward Stalker. “How easy would it have been for her to know what she was looking at? Strippers don’t get into that line of work due to what’s between their ears.”
Stalker’s face goes blank for a moment. “She could have taken a screenshot with her phone and sent it to Stone.” He shrugs. “But you’re right, I can’t say for certain.”
Twisting my head toward the enforcer, I tell him, “We need to have words with her. Though even if she’s working with Stone, I doubt he’d have told her anything that would help us locate him.
But he’s still looking for Ames. He might contact her again.
” I snap my eyes back to Genie. “Can we bug her phone?”
Our tech expert raises his chin. “Consider it done.”
I raise the gavel. “We’ll meet again as soon as we have more information. Keep your phones on and stay close.”
Woody looks up. “Before anyone heads out, I, for one, would like to raise a glass in Rattler’s memory.”
“Yeah?” I narrow my eyes on him. “And what if by some miracle, he’s still alive?”
All faces turn their heads toward me, their expressions suggesting I’m mad to even consider the possibility.
It’s Short who puts it into words. “Stone benefits more if she’s a widow. Leaving Rat alive is too risky for him. There’s no way on this earth he’d have left him breathing.”
Genie waggles his fingers. “I can do what I can on my own, but I could really do with Pippa…” He raises his eyes toward Saint.
“Jade’s not been sleeping. Pippa’s fuckin’ exhausted. She’ll assist in the morning,” Saint answers tersely.
My mouth quirks. From what I know of Saint’s old lady, she won’t just be assisting.
She’ll be taking over. But I’m not such an ass to insist he puts her to work, tired or not.
And, however much I hope Rat’s alive and breathing, I know there’s not much chance.
Not enough to insist on pulling a woman away from her baby.
Looking around the faces, I know we’re all hurting. We’ve lost one of our own today. And the way bikers handle such a loss is to drink and fuck. Losing Heathen, our prospect, last year was bad enough. But a brother sworn to the patch? It’s devastating.
Deciding to ease up, I slowly nod. “Go ahead. Let’s all raise a glass to Rat.”
“God rest his soul,” Words states, bowing his head.
I’m not sure all of us believe in the existence of a deity, but there would be no disagreement with the sentiment. I give them a few seconds of quiet contemplation before I bring the gavel down.
Chairs scrape across the wooden floor as everyone gets up, but unlike normal, when there’s laughter and conversation, they leave in virtual silence. We might all joke about Rat, but hell, he’ll be missed. Maybe because of the mayhem he caused instead of in spite of it.
I, as the prez, feel like I’ve failed. I’d underestimated the danger when I’d sent Rat and Ames away. They should have been safe. Staying in my seat as the brothers exit the room, I wonder what signs I’d missed, and whether I was wrong to send Rat in the first place.
But fuck, there should have been no risk. No way for Stone to find out where they were. Frowning, I decide I want to talk to Satin as soon as possible. If it wasn’t her, then who the fuck was it? I trust all the brothers with my life.
Lowering my head into my hands, I think about Rat, where he is, and, in the unlikely event he’s not dead, what Stone would be putting him through. My stomach roils just to think about it.
I’d sent Rat with Ames as a punishment, but I’d never have wished this fate on him.
Even Rat, himself, knew he’d been skating on thin ice, his constant interruptions and snide comments getting too close to the bone for comfort.
And yeah, he must have realised, forcing him to marry Ames and sending him alone with her to the cabin was partly to give the rest of us breathing space.
But these few weeks he’d been gone? Fuck, I doubt I’m the only one who missed him. Church ran far too smoothly when he wasn’t there.
I’d let him down. There were things I could have done differently.
Insisting on his marriage signed his death warrant.
And though it had brought Stone out of hiding, it certainly wasn’t in the way that I wanted.
He’d been in our territory and we’d missed him.
Should I have sent backup with Rat? Too fucking right.
But I’d been overconfident that the cabin was off-grid and untraceable.
Now Rat’s paid the price for my failings.
As prez, I’ve got to cope with the hand that’s been dealt and move on. But it’s not fucking easy.
I’ve lost a man on my watch. I’ve got blood on my hands.
At last, I rise and go to where the brothers are congregating in the clubroom. I’m not feeling particularly sociable, but it would be crass not to join them. As expected, they’re crowding the bar, Trixie and Knight running themselves ragged to serve them.
Knight. As I take my place in line, I muse that he’s done his time.
And that empty chair around the table feels like it’s mocking me.
As far as I’m concerned, he’s earned his patch.
When the dust has settled, I’ll bring it to the table.
Which will then mean we’ll be on the lookout for another man to swell the ranks.
Three prospects at least is a good number.
“Whisky,” I demand when it’s finally my turn to be served. My lips curve as Trixie reaches for the top shelf and the bottle she keeps back for just me. “How was Ames when you left her?”
“Unconscious,” she confides. “Bron gave her some shit that knocked her out. She’s still up there, looking after her.”
“Trip?” I enquire about the whereabouts of Bronwyn’s son.
“Pippa’s got him until Short was free. He’s already gone over to pick him up. I’ll take over from Bron later and let her go home.”
“Freak okay with that?”
“I’m okay with what?”
I turn to find my enforcer standing behind me. “Trix watching over Ames tonight.”
“We both will be,” he confirms. “Ace is staying at my ma’s tonight.” Then, moving around the bar, he reaches for his old lady. She goes willingly and they lock lips. When he’s finished devouring her mouth, he turns his attention back to me. “That girl was in fuckin’ pieces.”
“You really think the two of them were an item?” I mean, I’d heard it from her own mouth, but like the brothers, knowing Rat, it seems unlikely.
He presses his lips together. “You know those cheap rings we bought them? She’s still wearing hers.”
I hadn’t thought about it at the time. But he’s right.
My lips compress. If she was tight with Rat, then we have to start thinking of her as his old lady. Even if he’s no longer able to make the claim. She’s no longer under the Kings' protection as a client, but she’s one of ours. And Kings look out for their own.